


your lips are red

by hesperides



Series: entre la nuit, la nuit et l’aurore [1]
Category: K (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Urban Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Drabble, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-20
Updated: 2015-10-20
Packaged: 2018-04-27 07:42:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 726
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5039824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hesperides/pseuds/hesperides
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Call it a professional interest.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	your lips are red

Kissing him is like kissing death.

Cold lips and teeth that are razor shape, made to rend flesh and break bones, that leave the tiniest of cuts along the edge of his mouth even when Suoh swears he’s being careful, didn’t intend to. (The smirk on his face when he sees red smeared there makes Reishi doubt his sincerity.)

He thinks at times that nothing about this is gentle, it certainly lacks all feeling that comes with the word when they grab and grapple at each other, every touch bruising in its intensity. Suoh handles him like he means to leave marks and while Reishi can constantly deride him for it, call him the animal he is, he’ll be damned if he doesn’t try just as hard, despite (or maybe _in_ spite) the knowledge of his actions pointlessness.

It’s easy enough to blame the blood in the air and in his mouth for these reckless encounters, flirting with danger in the most literal sense, which would make a truly sane man balk. This may be the undeniable proof of the madness in his method, that the first and last defense of the human world invites a monster into his bed. Reishi makes no excuses for himself, does his best to keep the matter generally quiet, though anyone who sees them interact elsewhere can probably make the connections on their own.

So they kiss, they fuck, but Reishi still has some boundaries. He lets death nip at his heels, but that actual act, of feeding, of fueling him, he still refuses.

It’s not like he hasn’t thought about it, though he decidedly wishes he didn’t. Initially the very idea moved him to nothing short of revulsion– he’s seen the people who’ve become enthralled in it, their gaunt complexions and hollow eyes, wasting away with something no medicine or doctor can cure. (Nothing like that strange fair-haired boy that Suoh keeps with him, laughing eyed and flush with health.)

But he can’t help how he wonders, considers, attempts to understand their obsession. It almost becomes frustrating when the single thing Suoh chooses to gentlemanly about is the bite, never even so much as broaching the subject with him. Perhaps it’s a purposeful goad on his part, though most of the time he doubts Suoh even capable of coming up with something as subtle as that. Which is admittedly unfair, on Reishi’s part, but the man plays the beast so well it’s all too easy to keep him holed up in that box.

They dance around it, or Reishi dances while Suoh simply ignores it like the non-issue it truly may be to him. He relents, finally, one unseasonably balmy autumn night, their official struggle turned more personal, as it usually does.

“Would you want to, if I offered?” Suoh looks only confused initially, until the full meaning dawns on him.

“Why would you?” There’s an almost unnerving lack of goading in his reply, Reishi having prepared himself for the usual mockery almost unsure at the forwardness of the answer.

“Call it a professional interest.”

“Professional interest, huh?” He raises an eyebrow, the lazy smirk settling back in place. Reishi doesn’t dignify it further explanation, doesn’t want to give himself further room to lead Suoh off-script.

On the wrist, then, he decides, and tries not to pay too much mind to just carefully Suoh takes his hand, movements slow and purposeful as he brings it to his mouth and bites down.

It hurts, of course, the initial puncturing of flesh as painful as it normally would be, but there’s also a surge of something else, almost electric, humming from the wound and snaking up his arm, pulse taking a sharp spike as he feels Suoh’s tongue press against his flesh. It’s simultaneously foreign and familiar, painful and euphoric, and yes, almost uncomfortably intimate, decidedly more so than any time they’ve been _intimate_.

Suoh disengages, so soon Reishi is almost bereft from the loss.  It’s a few frantic seconds as he scrambles to regain his composure as the other man turns his gaze on him, still cradling his bloody wrist with a quiet kind of tenderness.

There’s a distinct feeling in his gut that he’s crossed some line that he should’ve left alone, but he can’t bring himself to dwell on it. He’ll just have to live with the consequences.

**Author's Note:**

> this is in the same verse as That Other Fic, though can be seen as a stand-alone if you so desire


End file.
